


Cry, Remember That First cry, Your Brother Standing By

by JetnessAffliction



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Catholic Imagery, Forced Orgasm, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Underage Rape/Non-con, dead dove do not eat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23011363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetnessAffliction/pseuds/JetnessAffliction
Summary: They're young and in purgatory after the terrorist attack took their family. Neil is working through some issues. Lyle lets him.
Relationships: Lyle Dylandy/Neil Dylandy, Neil Dylandy/Lyle Dylandy
Kudos: 2





	Cry, Remember That First cry, Your Brother Standing By

Lyle is kneeling prostrate at the Virgin's feet, praying for world peace or good fortune or for Ma and Amy and their old man to watch over them in heaven with their wings and halos and bright smiles and baby sheep and all that bullshit and it drives Neil absolutely _mad_. Not that he can help it more than Cain could help his jealousy, but he slams the Sacristy door shut behind him anyway because the Good Lord will surely forgive him.  
  
Lyle jumps at the sound, but settles down again when he realizes it's just his brother standing there, fists clenched, giving him that weary look again... and probably the oversize windows and the strong breeze blowing in. He finishes up, makes the sign of the cross and stands. He shrugs at Neil, nothing for it, and moves to grab his server robes from the closet. They have their duties for evening mass in 10 minutes, and Neil's still wearing that thick grungy jacket and Tshirt.  
  
Both boys are half undressed when Neil looks over shoulder, the fringe of his hair floating as his head lowers, until it nuzzles gently against the warm skin of his brother's back. The white of Lyle's thin undershirt is grating on his nerves, so he closes his eyes. For a beat, Neil does want forgiveness, though he's not sure, exactly, what he covets of his brother. He's not even sure he wants _more_ of anything, just that he wants less of the anger and frustration and helplessness. It's so very unfair of him to deserve forgiveness, he thinks, when he himself will never, ever, forgive. It isn't his brother's fault at all, but there is no one else. No one. Just them.  
  
Lyle turns slowly, sympathetically, and is suddenly shoved backwards. His head hits the back of the wall harshly, the sound muffled by thick, oversized robes in green and purple and gold. His hand twists in a swatch of dark blue, but the fabric falls with him into the deep space and he can't breathe because Neil is upon him now, covering his mouth with his own and wrestling him still and quiet.  
  
One of Neil's arms relents, reaches back to close the closet door and hide them from the Virgin's eyes. That is for Lyle's sake. Neil couldn't care less if that painted and gilded hunk of plaster saw him reach down between his brother's legs, unzipping and yanking and claiming. Or if the icons on the peeling walls would raise their gazes a modest fraction to watch how Neil's lips travel over his brother's trembling skin, teeth gnawing hungrily and tongue licking down Lyle's neck until the pulse under it thuds. He doesn't say a word, not that the saints would listen, and forces Lyle's hand against his own erection, fingers catching in the waistband as his hips jerking mercilessly against the warm body pinned against him, leaving no mistake for his intentions.  
  
Lyle's quiet, panicked gasps grow louder with each rough stroke of Neil's hand, and he can barely think to shut up and surrender to his brother in the same motion, latching his own mouth against Neil's ear and rocking with him to hurry the whole ordeal up. Mother in heaven, they were both marked for life since that day, though Neil's scars are occasionally personified this way, in sudden attacks and brief pleading's for his brother's blessing. He can take it, though Lyle won't give it.  
  
Neil's breaths speed up, and he breathes a small damp circle against his brother's neck. His free hand grabs Lyle's arm and slams it back against the wall as well. The hand between them gropes around, rough and anxious to free his own erection. His fingers wrap around both their hard cocks, yanking and grinding. It builds in him, as intense as anger, until he is on his toes, shaking and coming and nearly crying.  
  
Lyle's fingers rake through Neil's hair, pulling and scratching as he comes soon after, and he _is_ crying.  
  
No, Neil reminds himself, forgiveness would be too much to pray for, even if he tried. But as Neil feels his brother wipe away faint tears, sobbing softly against his shoulder, he realizes exactly what Lyle has that he no longer does.

**Author's Note:**

> Original (unedited) prompt and fill, with comments: https://kinkmeme.livejournal.com/3956.html?thread=2930804#t2930804 
> 
> Also yes it's an overused lyrics as a title, but that's because it's a great song: https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/3204791/Lullaby+for+Cain


End file.
